


Disclosure

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Best Buds [26]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trent is witness to the fallout of Blaine's decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

> 1st week of August 2008 Blaine is 19 years old. Trent is 18.

“Dad, you don’t understand.”

“Understand? For God’s sake, Blaine, what the fuck were you thinking? Or were you even thinking? Damn it, son, if you needed the money all you had to do was just . . . .”

Trent heaved a major sigh of relief when the raised voices of both his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s father faded to a muted roar. The two had obviously taken their fight back outside, leaving him exactly where he’d been hiding for the past 30 minutes or so, sitting on the floor just inside the door of the kitchen’s pantry. The spot not only provided him with cover, but it also allowed him to hear every word of the heated argument.

He shook his head, hoping the vigorous motion would break him out of the shock-induced state he found himself in. “Fuck it all to hell, Budman. If I hadn’t seen the proof with my own eyes, I still wouldn’t have believed it, not in a million years.”

He banged his head against the wall behind him. “You posed nude . . .” He glanced down at the pages of the open magazine. “Correction . . . SEMI-nude for money. Money which you used, in part, to fly yourself home so that you could be with your totally clueless boyfriend . . . me!”

He mentally kicked himself in the ass for being so stupid. He remembered Blaine clearly saying he wouldn’t be able to attend his Senior Prom with him. The baseball game he’d been scheduled to pitch was in Tennessee, and nothing short of a miracle would have gotten him home in time for the dance.

“Fuck!” His head made nice with the wall once more.

But make it home, his boyfriend did. Blaine had shown up unexpectedly, looking sexier than ever in a rented tux and, with one simple kiss, had stolen all coherent thought from his dimwit of a brain.

“Hell, the kissing, the fucking, the rimming, it’s a wonder I could think at all that night,” he muttered.

His gag reflex kicked in when he recalled the memory of how he’d curbed his complete and utter aversion to rimming in order to thank Blaine for getting home in time for his prom. Thank God he wouldn’t have to do that again.

He made himself swallow the bile that rose in the back of his throat. Man, he loved Blaine to the max and would do just about anything for him, but rimming wasn’t one of them. Hell, he’d get his dick pierced multiple times before touching his lips to his boyfriend’s hole again.

“There are some things a fella’s not supposed to do, whether he’s gay or straight, and that’s one of ‘em. Fuck-o-rama.”

He wiped his mouth and took a deep breath. Of course it went without saying that his measly sacrifice had been nothing compared to Blaine’s.

Shit!

Blaine had posed for a damn centerfold, lost his scholarship and gotten his ass kicked out of school. All for him.

He forcibly relaxed the hand that was now clutching the infamous magazine. He carefully laid it back down on the floor and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles he’d created. His attention was diverted to the write-up on Blaine. It was incredibly short and there were a ton of facts the writer hadn’t even touched upon, but then again, why would he? Nobody in their right mind bought ‘Freshman’ for its articles.

“Speaking of articles, I wonder if this is the issue that has . . .”

“Ah, the notorious photos.”

Looking up, he realized his hiding place had been discovered. Dan was taking a seat on the floor beside him. In his hand was another copy of the magazine.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” the man asked. “It’s not every day I find myself staring at pictures of my lover’s son.”

He shuddered at the image Dan’s words had produced. Not only had Blaine’s dad seen the pics, but Dan had also. What about his boyfriend’s mom and sisters? Had they also seen them? Another shudder took hold of him when he contemplated how many more would see the layout. Strangers of all ages would soon be drooling and lusting and jacking off . . .

He immediately saw red.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he hotly declared. “I’m gonna string up his asinine ass and beat the hell out of it.”

“I’m sure Sean would be more than happy to supply the rope,” Dan offered.

He looked over at the man. “I don’t understand. Why would Blaine do something so fucking stupid? Is he that ashamed of asking for money? I mean, I would have loaned him the money. Of course, it would have meant me selling my truck or something like that but still, it would have been better than this.” 

He stared at the photograph of his boyfriend sitting on a bench in what he supposed was the team’s dugout. Blaine was bare chested and covered in sweat, a glove and baseball resting beside him. His legs were spread wide open and his right hand was shoved inside the pair of workout shorts he normally wore when practicing. There was no mistaking what was going on inside those shorts. “Why, Budman? Why?”

“I believe you’re wearing the answer on your hand.” Dan indicated the shiny gold band on his left ring finger. “That’s new, isn’t it?”

He stared at the ring Blaine had given him not less than an hour ago. For almost a year his boyfriend had been promising to buy him a commitment band. As soon as he saved up enough money, Blaine had repeatedly sworn. Well, his boyfriend was a man of his word and had bought the ring using a portion of the money he’d received from the photo shoot.

“Ah, hell.” He scrunched his eyes shut when he remembered how he, himself, had gotten the money needed to buy Blaine’s ring. He’d hocked what was probably his most cherished possession, a locket he and his dad had given his mom shortly before she’d died of breast cancer.

“The things a fool will do for love,” he mumbled.

“Obviously Sean has forgotten that particular fact,” Dan interjected. With a friendly pat to his arm, the man rose to his feet. “Seems he’s forgotten the time he sold his prized Harley so that the two of us could go whitewater rafting down the Colorado River.”

Following Dan’s example, he stumbled to his feet after grabbing his copy of the magazine. “Mr. Matthews did what?”

Dan gazed off into the distance and smiled. “The two of us had decided it was time to step out of the closet and declare our love to the world. We chose a rafting trip down the Colorado River for the main event. The whole thing was sponsored by GLADD, and what better company to be in when you finally announce to the world that you’re gay and in love with each other.”

“How old were you?” Having known Blaine’s dad for his entire life, he was still having a hard time picturing him in a relationship with another man. It had always been Allanah and Sean. Now it was Allanah and Sean and Dan, the dynamics of which were still a mystery to him.

Dan chuckled. “Actually, to tell you the truth, we were the same age as you and Blaine are right now.” The man shook his head. “God, has it been that long?”

“Maybe you could jog Mr. Matthew’s memory?” He glanced in the direction of the back porch. The yelling was getting louder again, indicating the return of Blaine and his father. Looking over his shoulder at Dan, he suggested, “Maybe you could point out the fact that Blaine was only following in his dad’s footsteps.”

Dan walked into the kitchen and laid his copy of the magazine on the counter next to the fridge. “Sean selling his motorcycle is nothing compared to Blaine selling his body.” He collected a beer from the fridge and twisted off its cap. Pointing the glass bottle at Trent, he added, “I doubt Sean will see the similarity.”

Trent took a seat on one of the stools placed alongside the Matthew’s cluttered breakfast bar. He shoved a neon pink Cinderella backpack to the side and leaned his elbows on the counter. “It’s not the same, I agree. And yeah, I’m still going to kick the shit out of Blaine the first chance I get, but . . .” 

He looked down at the band on his left ring finger. “I still don’t understand why he would do such a thing. I know Blaine loves me, but to pose for this magazine just so he could buy me a fucking ring?”

Swiping at the moisture collecting in his eyes, he hid his face by twisting around on the stool and looking out the windows that looked over the backyard. “Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” He glanced back at Dan, hoping his mentor would understand what he was trying to put into words. “Blaine basically whored himself for me. Why? Am I really that special?”

He took comfort in the hug offered to him. “I’m just a guy,” he grumbled. “An ordinary kind of guy. No way in hell am I worth that sort of sacrifice.”

“You are to Blaine,” Dan whispered in his ear. Taking a step back, the bespectacled man collected his beer and took another swallow. “Whether you know it or not, you’ve been the only person Blaine has ever confessed to having feelings for. There’s never been anyone else to my knowledge. It’s always been you.”

He waved a hand at the framed photos scattered along the wall next to the backdoor. The collection included not only the usual school pictures of all the kids, but there were also vacation pictures and photos of family friends and relatives. He took a closer look and was amazed at how many of them included him.

Dan pointed to one in particular, a photo of the two boys showing off their tattoos. “Each Christmas Sean would send me photos of the fam, and without fail, every batch contained at least one or two pictures of you and Blaine. Not Blaine and some girl, not Blaine and some guy. It was always you and him.”

Dan turned his piercing gaze on him. “And let me say, it was obvious from the get-go that my godson was head-over-heels in love with you. Might have taken him a while to comprehend the exact nature of that love, but once he did, he embraced not only his homosexuality wholeheartedly, but also his feelings for you.”

Dan finished his beer off with a last swallow and tossed the empty in the recycle bin. “I realize that doesn’t excuse his recent behavior, but it does explain it somewhat.”

“But am I so special that he would put his entire future in jeopardy?” He drew in a startled breath, when, without warning, Dan turned and placed a hand over his heart. There was no doubt the man could feel its accelerated rhythm. “What would have happened if that scout from LSU hadn’t signed Blaine? His baseball career, college, all down the drain and for what? So that he could take me to my Senior Prom?”

“Blaine loves you,” Dan answered after offering him another hug, “and in his eyes, you’re worth any sacrifice.”

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, not to mention confused as hell, he hung his head. “How can I live up to that? I’m nobody. Just a guy who was okay at school and okay at sports. Nobody special.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s exactly true.” Dan reclaimed his copy of the magazine and flipped through it. “I’d say you have a natural way with words, and this is a prime example of that talent.” The magazine was slid across the counter so that he could see the article referred to. “Not sure I’m totally comfortable with the subject matter, but the writing is excellent.”

He stared open-mouthed at the page. “Oh shit.”

There, in black and white, were the words, ‘Do You See What I See?’ written by T. A. Michael.

T. A. Michael was a pseudonym he’d created for himself, a play on his real name, Trent Michael Anderson. And the article? It was a fictional piece based on the events of that afternoon he and Blaine had watched Sean and Dan getting down and dirty with each other.

He traced the outline of his name with a shaky hand. He’d always enjoyed writing and had, from day one, been secretly jotting down short snippets about him and Blaine. That day in the treehouse had really stirred his creative juices, and on a whim, he’d submitted the finished story to a contest his favorite magazine was sponsoring.

“Like I said, you’ve got a talent for writing. Wouldn’t mind reading more of your stuff.” Dan regained possession of the magazine before nodding his head at the windows. “Here comes trouble with a capital B.”

“Huh?” He glanced up and saw a very frustrated-looking boyfriend heading his way. “Ah, shit,” he growled. “Of all days . . .”

Scrambling off the stool, he lunged for where he’d tossed his copy of the magazine on the far end of the counter. He quickly rolled it up and shoved it down the back of his jeans. Out of sight, out of mind . . . for the moment, at least.

Blaine slammed his way inside the house and stomped over to the fridge. Without saying a word, he yanked open the door and grabbed two beers. 

“Um . . .”

A glare that dared any comment was directed at him and he wisely shut his mouth.

Blaine left in the same manner he came, silent and angry. 

He watched through the kitchen windows and saw that Blaine was heading for the treehouse. Within seconds his boyfriend was up the ladder and sitting in the doorway, the first of the two beers emptied and tossed to the ground below.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” This was so not a good thing.

He exited the Matthews’ house, stopping at his truck to throw the magazine through the open window of the driver’s side door before slowly making his way over to the oak that housed their treasured treehouse. During the few moments it took him to cover the distance, he mulled over his feelings about Blaine’s actions and still couldn’t fathom why his boyfriend had done what he did.

“If you’re gonna dump my sorry ass, do it now and get it over with.”

“Yeah?” He desperately tried to smother the laughter that seemed to bubble up from his gut at his boyfriend’s woeful demand. The beer bottle aimed at his head informed him he had not been successful.

“If I dump your, as you put it, sorry ass, what in the hell am I supposed to do about this damn tattoo on my bicep? You know, the one with your name on it?” 

He scrambled up the ladder and stepped over his sulking boyfriend. Stripping off his t-shirt, he took a seat behind Blaine. After a tight hug, he coaxed his boyfriend into removing his shirt and groaned when their bodies came in contact with each other. God, he loved getting naked with Blaine. 

“And what’s with the beer? You don’t drink.” He buried his nose in the hair brushing the nape of Blaine’s neck. Much to his delight, his boyfriend was letting his hair grow out. “Hell, if your dad catches you drinking any kind of alcohol, your ass will be more than sorry.”

“Oh, shut up. The situation demanded drinking.”

A good five minutes passed, silent except for the noise of his lips mapping Blaine’s broad shoulders. He hadn’t seen his boyfriend since he’d headed back to Alabama and it was way past time to reacquaint himself with Blaine’s unique taste.

“How mad are you, Trent?” 

He took a moment to think about it. “On a scale of zero to ten? Try 20. Jesus, Budman, what the hell were you thinking?” He lightly bit the side of his boyfriend’s neck. “Putting your future in jeopardy for the chance to take me to my Senior Prom? I know you love me but seriously . . . posing for that magazine? For money? I’m sorry but I just don’t understand.”

Both of his hands were captured and pressed against the tattoo that matched the one on his bicep. It allowed him to feel his boyfriend’s heartbeat, and he frowned at how incredibly fast it was pounding. “Talk to me, Budman.”

A kiss ghosted over his hands before a mumbled explanation was offered. 

“I couldn’t disappoint you again.”

“Again?” What the hell was his boyfriend talking about? Blaine had never disappointed him. Fuck, it was him more so than Blaine that led the record in disappointing others. “I’m confused. When have you ever disappointed me?

“Don’t tell me you weren’t disappointed big time when I chose to sign with Alabama instead of LSU. How long had we been planning to go to LSU together? Years?”

Blaine turned his head and caught his gaze. “I know I hurt you when I made that decision without talking it over with you first.” His boyfriend returned to his contemplation of the view beyond the door of their treehouse. “I can still remember the look on your face. It nearly killed me.” Another kiss was pressed to his hands.

Yeah, he’d been somewhat upset but not about Blaine not talking to him. He’d been more upset about his boyfriend living in another state. Out of sight, out of mind, out of love. The possibility of Blaine hooking up with another guy . . . that’s what had tortured his heart more so than the fact they wouldn’t be able to attend LSU together. 

“Wait a minute. You’ve got it all . . .” 

Blaine interrupted his protest. “And even though I couldn’t see it, I knew without a doubt you had that same look on your face when I told you I couldn’t take you to your Senior Prom and it just about killed me.”

His boyfriend’s head tipped back and found a resting place on his right shoulder. Taking advantage of the move, he nuzzled the area behind Blaine’s left ear.

“Budman, it was never about LSU.” He sank his teeth into the tender flesh of an earlobe. “I was more afraid of you moving away and discovering you could do so much better in the boyfriend department. It terrified me, the thought of you with some other guy.”

A hand tangled itself in his hair and yanked him down into a kiss that took his breath hostage.

“Never, babe. Never. There’s only been you; there will never be anyone else but you. And that, you can take that to the bank, Trent Anderson.”

They spent a few minutes simply holding each other and sharing thought-scattering kisses. It wasn’t long before his curiosity about the photo shoot got the best of him. 

“What about the magazine? How did you get caught up in that?”

Blaine snorted. “Believe it or not, I’m not the only gay member of the Crimson Tide’s baseball team. There’s five that I know of and probably a couple of more still hiding in the closet. Jace Hansen, our starting shortstop, is the nephew of Nathan Chandler.”

“And?”

“Chandler works for ‘Freshman’ magazine and was putting together an issue dedicated totally to gay college athletes. He’d already approached me several times in the past when the problem about your prom came up.”

Blaine turned his head and their lips met in another love affirming kiss.

“I know it was stupid, accepting his offer, but, babe . . .” 

Without warning, Blaine twisted around and pushed him back down against the floor, covering him with his body while insinuating one knee between his legs.

“God, you have no idea how much I fucking hated being away from you. Not seeing you on a daily basis. Knowing it would be a long four years before we were back together. All of that, along with not being able to take you to your prom . . . it was just too much.”

Blaine rose up, bracing the weight of his upper body on his hands. “Maybe in the back of my mind, I knew it would cost me my scholarship and get me kicked out of school. Maybe I did it ‘cause I knew the end result would be me back at home with you.”

His boyfriend sat back on his heels, his heated gaze doing crazy things to his heart and dick. Unsteady hands reached for his jeans, expertly undoing them in seconds flat despite their shaking.

“Whatever the reason,” Blaine continued. “I’m home now, and you and I can get our plans for attending LSU back on track. Tonight after supper, we can go online and see about getting you registered for the fall semester.”

Well, shit. Blaine knew he was working for his dad at the racetrack. What he didn’t know was that he’d signed a contract with Kenney Bueche and would be traveling with his team on the NASCAR circuit for at least a year if not longer.

Catching the hand searching for his family jewels, he took a deep breath of courage. “Yeah, about that.”

 

To be continued . . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And . . . [You can follow me and my eclectic tastes on Tumblr!](http://angelise7.tumblr.com/)


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